Should you look up on the interwebs something to the tune of “how to make lard,” you will find recipes for making lard with a LONG-ass preamble of how unhealthy lard is and “gee, lard … oh wow … so unhealthy … oh but just like masturbating … I shouldn’t really … but oh I love it … oh here’s how to make it.” I hate this hee-haw, so here’s how to make lard without the guilt. Because rule number one: Lard is good for you. It is rich in vitamin D. D! Like that shit is hard to come by. It’s just a matter of time before Frito-Lay slaps a “rich in vitamin D” sticker on their packages. D is the shit, so take a puff.
Assuming you know your way around a stove or stovetop or “hob” (I can never write the word “hob” without giggling), here’s the order and your day:
- Pig fat
- a big pot
- a day for hanging around the hob [hee hee]
- a splash of water
- jars (clean) to put your lard
- dude, that’s it
Your toughest obstacle here is finding a day and securing pig fat. If you can’t secure a tractor to hang up the pig that you and your friends tied up, lifted up and slit its throat and collected the blood for sausage but just the first bits of blood, perhaps you can ask your local butcher for pig fat. They usually have some in the back without a clue of what to do with it. When the butcher fails you, reach out to your local pig farmer. Oh they are there, you’ve never noticed because it wasn’t in the cool section at your fancy grocery store. You see, food comes from farmers. Crazy talk, but it is the truth. Figure it out. Get some pigfat. And then:
- cube your fat. Avoid meaty bits
- give the meaty bits to your cat or dog or chicken
- if you get meaty bits in your lard, it will be “savory lard” thus limiting your use of such a wonderful fat
- okay, if you insist, you can put meaty bits in your lard, but don’t go making pumpkin pie.
- Stick your cubes in a pan and add a few splashes of water to kick it off
- Then cook that shit on low heat until there’s a lot of liquid fat and little crumply crunchy things
- This could take hours
- But you can do other things
- Like start your rye bread or think or something interesting that doesn’t involve you, you’re such a narcissist.
That’s it. When you get a soupy, fatty, bubbly liquid of gold, you grab your sieve (oh yeah, get a sieve to strain the puffy fatty bits) and ladle that beauty in your clean jars. Then, get on with your busy life. After your jars cool a bit you need to find time to stick them in the fridge. Don’t forget to turn off your hob. You’ll turn it on again some other time, I’m sure.
Easy, now off you go. When you’re done, you will have lard. Lard for making great stuff that doesn’t involve unwrapping anything.